


25 Wellington Street

by Autumnassassin



Series: 25 Wellington Street [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (supposed to show up more....that didnt happen), AU, Also a ton of other characters that show up but that I didnt want to tag, Harry Potter leads the resistance, In which Harry resorts to desperate measures, Mentions of serial killers throughout history but a surprising lack of focus on them, Muggles in the Magical World, Teenagers and kids dealing with their crap, Trust in random people, adults suck, but nothing graphic, mentions of torture, pinky promises could bring down the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-22 23:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20330569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autumnassassin/pseuds/Autumnassassin
Summary: Laura isn't really sure what the guy wants when he sits next to her. He asks her to keep a secret, and while Laura doesn't really get the importance, she pinky promises. Months pass by and nothing happens and she nearly forgets. Then she's taken somewhere and tortured, and she remembers the promise she made: Harry Potter leads the resistance at 25 Wellington Street.It would be easy to give it all up.





	1. Chapter 1

Laura Crews was sitting on the tube on her way home from work when the guy sat next to her. She eyed him from the side, noting his odd, worn clothing. It looked like leather, but it wasn’t anything she recognized. His leg was bouncing up and down as he constantly looked around the train, a hand coming up once to run his hands though his hair, exposing a curious scar.

He looked like he had just come from a fight, cuts and bruises littered his hands, and when he shifted, it was with the movements that something internally was hurting. A large bruise covered part of his jaw and Laura watched him in concern as he twitched anytime anyone came close to him. It made her wonder why he had chosen to sit next to her when he very obviously didn’t want anyone else near him.

“I have a question for you.”

It took her a moment to realize he was talking to her and she started a bit, turning towards him the slightest.

“If you saw me on the telly, labelling me as a terrorist, would you turn me in?”

Well that was one way to start a conversation. Laura looked at him as she tried to figure out how to answer the question. There seemed to be a lot of weight behind the question for some reason, so she tried to gather what she could just from his appearance. 

There was a sort of bone-weary look in his eyes, a sight that she had seen only once, on her friend John’s face after he came home from Afghanistan. 

The guy actually looked younger than she thought, maybe a year or two younger than her, and Laura wondered at what could have made him look so old while being so young.

But there was something about him, something that just screamed that he was good, and so Laura finally gave a slow shake of her head, “No, no I wouldn’t.”

He let out a long breath that Laura hadn’t even realized he was holding.

“No matter what the telly said? No matter how high the reward or what they said I did?”

This was getting odd. More odd than the beginning, because the guy sounded so sure that this would happen and Laura shifted uncomfortably as she thought. The guy made an aborted motion towards her and for some reason the worry that he was going to steal her bag flashed through her mind. She had coursework in there.

But she finally answered, “No. No I wouldn’t.”

“Can I ask you to keep a secret?”

Laura gave a slow nod and he continued, “There are two aspects to this secret. The first is that magic is real.”

Here he paused and Laura stared at him in blatant shock and confusion. A small pained smile crossed his face as he waited, but Laura didn’t move.

Giving another slow nod, she said, “Okay. What does that mean?”

She was shocked when the guy gave a small chuckle, “You’re the first person to not run away when I say that. It has to do with the second part. This is dangerous. But we have no other choice. What I tell you, you can’t tell anyone else. No matter what okay?”

“You’re putting your trust in someone you met five minutes ago, are you sure this is smart?” Laura asked instead and the guy gave her a humourless smile.

“Like I said, we have no choice. It’s our last option and we’re just doing our best to survive. If you don’t think you can keep the secret, I’ll find someone else.”

Laura shook her head in response, “What’s the secret?”

“Harry Potter leads the resistance at 25 Wellington Street.”

There seemed to be a weight in the air and Laura took in a shaky breath. A resistance sounded incredibly important.

“Okay. Harry Potter leads the resistance at 25 Wellington Street.” She said back to him and it was his turn to nod.

“Even with the threat of torture, you can’t give it away. If your family or friends are threatened, this is too important,” he was pleading with her now, voice pitched low to avoid drawing attention from everyone else on the tube. Laura risked a glance around, but no one was paying them any attention and she looked back to the guy.

Biting her lip, she nodded once, “I won’t tell anyone,” she swore, raising her pinky finger up to him. He started at the motion, but then a small smile appeared on his face as he raised his own pinky to interlock with her own.

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a stick. A bonafide stick. As Laura watched in confusion, he started making funny patterns in the air as he mumbled gibberish under his breath. Or, not quite gibberish because some of it sounded like Spanish, when her old high school teacher would mumble at them from the front of the room. A second later Laura realized that it was probably Latin rather than crappy Spanish.

“We’re trusting you. This might blow up in our faces, but we can’t think of anything else. The secret lies with you,” the kid said, putting the stick back in his pocket. Laura tilted her head at him, then gave a short nod.

She didn’t understand, not really, but could at least keep her promise.

And if it turned out that this was just a crazy guy, than at least she was nice enough to entertain him for a minute.

(but there was something to this kid that had her pausing. something that was more than just a crazy kid)

The kid left at the next stop, Laura still sitting there. She tried to catch sight of him, but he was gone, vanished among the throng of people pushing towards the exit.

When she got home, her roommate Macy asked about her day like normal, and Laura opened her mouth to tell her about the boy, but the thought of the look in his eyes stopped her. She instead just shrugged and responded that it had been normal.

Laura almost managed to forget about the incident. She went about her life, going to classes and work with the drive of someone trying to pay through university, dated a bit but not too seriously, and occasionally sat on the tube to go people-watch.

But there would be times where she would look at someone on the tube and be abruptly reminded of the kid, another young man looking similar to the one who insisted that magic was real and wanted her to keep a secret, passing by a street sign and would instead think of the street name. 

Then she started to notice the signs that popped up. Warning signs, danger signs, ones that had the boy’s picture on it with an absurdly high reward. Laura had paused at the first one she had seen, a hand rising almost absentmindedly to touch the poster before she caught her hand and pulled away, walking briskly along the street.

She had pinky promised. 

Things started getting stranger from there. Started getting worse. London had always been a hotspot for trouble, but everything seemed to be going downhill. There were more terrorist attacks then ever, and her mother was constantly calling her to make sure she had made it through the day.

Laura began carrying a knife and taser around with her, the attacks frequent enough to make everyone paranoid. She had already been in a self-defense class, teaching kickboxing to a group of other college students, but she upped her training. Not just because of the attacks though.

(she would never tell anyone else that though)

The attacks were so random though, no one knew who was behind it. Which was part of the reason everyone was panicking so much. If it was ISIS or ISIL or some other random group, there would still be panic of course, but at least they could know who to blame.

But no one was taking responsibilities for the attacks.

(there were times Laura thought back to the boy, what he said about magic, and wondered)

Months later, nearly a year actually, Laura was walking home from classes when she noticed that someone was following her. They weren’t even being discrete, she couldn’t see them, but she could tell. It didn’t matter where she went, someone was there following after her.

And they didn’t have a pleasant gaze.

Laura reached into her bag finally and palmed the taser sitting there. She didn’t want to lead whoever it was to her apartment, not with Macy most likely asleep.

She turned a corner down into an alley, knowing that that might not be the safest decision based on horror movies, but also not knowing where else to go. Ducking behind a dumpster that sat there, Laura watched the opening of the alley intently.

How was she supposed to fight against magic?

She prayed that it was just a normal stalker, but her luck had never been the best.

There was a sudden crack next to her and Laura automatically whirled, elbow flying and felt it crunch into someone’s nose.

There was cursing, but Laura didn’t bother to look more intently, already fleeing out into the street. The guy from months ago seemed to be wary about bringing up magic, hopefully that applies to all magic people.

Unfortunately there weren’t that many people out and Laura cursed her tendency to get home late.

And, here she skidded to a stop at the sight of a clearly magical person, stick out and sparking, apparently the bad magic people don’t care about what they do in the sight of others.

And even more unfortunate, this movement allowed the other person who was chasing her to catch up, a hand wrapping around her upper arm. Laura tried to twist out of his hold, but he just gripped tighter and started to twist, pulling Laura along with him.

Laura tried pulling away, but then all of her struggle went away as it felt like she was being squeezed through a tiny tube, her body folding down and inwards.

They were suddenly somewhere else and Laura started to sag to her knees as her stomach rolled uncomfortably, but the person holding her didn’t allow her to pause, just started to pull her along with them.

Laura tried to fight down her rolling stomach and to get away, but his grip was tight on her arm and Laura couldn’t do anything but uselessly struggle and try to not throw up.

There were a set of doors ahead of them, and the man flicked his stick (a wand?) at them and the doors opened in front of the two of them without any other assistance.

“My Lord, I have found the Muggle.” He announced, bringing what looked like a meeting to a screeching halt.

The man at the head of the table rose and Laura was abruptly reminded of a snake. 

The one holding her arm abruptly let go and shoved her forwards, making Laura stumble. She shot the man a glare, but he was already joining the others who had been surrounding the snakeman.

“Why did you run Muggle?”

Laura’s hand twitched as she automatically reached for her taser, but didn’t pull it out, wanting to wait until she had a better opportunity to use it. The snake-looking man was staring at her, which was a little unnerving, but not terrifying.

“I was a lone woman walking home and someone started following me, of course I was going to start running.” She answered.

There was silence, then, “Was it because Harry Potter approached you?”

Laura looked around the room in confusion, but they all were studiously avoiding her gaze, favouring the wall or the floor.

“I don’t know anyone named that.”

Another bout of silence, then the snake-man pulled out a stick, and Laura abruptly remembered how the guy had pulled out a stick as well.

She was in so much trouble.

“Crucio!”

It felt like white-hot knives were dancing along her spine, like each of her fingers were being individually smashed with a hammer, like she had a kidney stone that wasn’t being treated, like every nerve was being set on fire individually.

She was screaming, she was distantly aware of that fact. Then the pain was cut and she gasped in air, just lying there on the ground as she tried to pull in enough air. She didn’t even remember hitting the floor.

“Now. Will you tell us what we need to know?” 

Laura took in another breath and closed her eyes a moment before she opened them again, “I told you,” she started in a scratchy voice, “I don’t know who you're talking about.”

“You had contact with Harry Potter, about 10 months ago did you not?” the red eyes were uncomfortable close to hers, and Laura sucked in another pain-filled breath.

“No, I didn’t meet anyone like that.” She insisted.

Then the pain was back and Laura screamed.

Finally it ended and Laura let out a gasp, tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes as she tried to find it in her to breath.

“Nott. I thought you said this was the Muggle that Potter approached?” the serpentine voice asked someone, and Laura sucked in another breath finally, hands scrabbling at the floor as though she could find relief through that.

“My Lord, I assure you, this was the girl in the photo,” a man’s voice insisted.

The snake man made a non-committal noise as he thought, staring down at Laura. She refused to look away though, just sucking in more breaths as her nerves started to slowly calm down from the pain-filled buzzing that filled them.

“Hmm. Perhaps she has been obliviated?” the snake man mused, and he bent down to her level, red-eyes boring into her own, “Would anyone be aware if a secret keeper can still keep the secret if they are no longer aware of it themselves?”

There was a long silence, but Laura didn’t dare look away and it seemed that he took amusement in her glance. But as no one responded, his face contorted and he whipped to his feet, cloak billowing around his feet and Laura was greeted to a view of the room full of people kneeling.

“Does no one have an answer for me?” he hissed out and the kneeling people all winced, some more obviously than others.

Eventually, someone gathered up enough courage to answer, “It’s never been tested my Lord.”

The answer wasn’t to his satisfaction though and Laura felt a breath of relief leave her at the sight of someone else getting that curse.

“Zabini, get over here and check,” he hissed out and one of the figures immediately rose, approaching Laura and she couldn’t help but let a whimper escape.

But he didn’t cast any pain filled curses, and instead after meeting her eyes, he whispered something in Latin and suddenly she found herself on that day from the train with Zabini standing beside her.

She watched in horror as the boy, Harry, started to approach her and she couldn’t do anything but glance to the man beside her. He did nothing though, just watched intently.

This was her mind right? Her memories? So she should be able to control what he saw. Biting her lip, she concentrated, and watched as Harry approached her starting a conversation, but instead concentrating on the worried feeling she had about him stealing her bag and how he had eventually left after she gave him some noncommittal answers.

“That was an excellent job.”

Laura felt her heart stop as she looked over at him, but he wasn’t looking at her, instead examining the scene in front of him.

“Your nerves were what had me looking deeper, you need to redirect them to nerves of the person reading your mind, that will cause them to not look where they should. Any one else won’t be aware of the intricacies of muggle transportation.” Zabini told her.

“Are they going to kill me?” Laura asked in a low whisper.

Zabini sighed, “Unless I can come up with a good enough excuse to keep you alive, probably. We have some time here where we can talk, but not much. You’re holding up really well by the way.”

Laura gave him a tired smile, “I made a pinky promise. If I die, will the secret still be safe or will he need to make another one?”

“Make a new one. What happens after a secret keeper dies is that each person who is aware of the secret then becomes a secret keeper themselves. And since Nott is a traitor, the Dark Lord would know exactly where to go.”

“Can you get word to them that I’m here?” Laura asked after a moment’s silence.

Zabini shook his head regretfully, “I don’t even think Potter knows I’m on his side. I don’t dare try and make contact with him to tell him. There may be other resistance members in the Death Eaters, but none have made it into the Inner Circle.”

Laura brought her nail up to her mouth and began to chew on it as she thought, “What if….” She hesitated, looking up at him, then continued, “What if, I told you the secret. You then got out and went there and told them.”

Zabini looked conflicted, not answering for the moment. Laura let him think without rushing him, watching the scene play over and over in front of her.

“The problem is, the Dark Lord is semi-immortal. Potter and his resistance are still searching for the last piece. Once it is found, then the Dark Lord can be killed. Having Potter lead a frontal attack at this time would be ill-advised.” He finally said, drawing her attention back to him.

“Perhaps…perhaps you send a letter to him, through the post, the norm…muggle way. Then tell the Dark Lord that it looks as though my mind has been tampered with, but you aren’t sure. It would require delicate work as you worked through my mind.” Laura offered.

Slowly, Zabini nodded his head, “The second part, for keeping you alive could work. I cannot promise you that it will be painless, in fact it might even get worse from here.”

Laura let out a shaky breath at that, but nodded, “Do it. Will the letter idea work?”

He gave a small shrug, “I will work on it though.”

Laura gave a couple nods, then wrapped her arms around herself, “Okay.” She whispered, hugging tightly, “Let’s go.”

There was hesitation, then Zabini wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her once.

Then they were back in that room and Laura sucked in a deep breath as her head began pounding.

“Well Zabini?” the Dark Lord demanded.

Laura stared into Zabini’s eyes and could see no trace of the man she had met in her mind. When he stood up and turned to face the Dark Lord, Laura closed her eyes in preparation for him to tell that she did have the secret.

“There seem to be some sort of blocks in her mind. I hesitate to simply tear through them, due to the nature of fidelius. With your permission, I would ask that I am able to search through her mind to find and destroy the blocks while leaving the information intact.”

Laura let out a shuddering breath at that, not allowing her eyes to open in case the relief became too obvious in her eyes.

“Is she the secret keeper?” the Dark Lord hissed.

Zabini didn’t answer right away, and Laura opened her eyes to watch the tension in his back, “It is…possible my Lord. But I hesitate to say yes for now. It may be that she came in contact with wizards before, perhaps was in a relationship with one that ended badly and needed to be covered up.”

“Did she meet with Potter?”

Again he hesitated, but only for a second before continuing, “It is possible. About 10 months ago, she was approached by someone who appeared to resemble Potter, but it wasn’t an exact likeness.” There was a tense silence, and Laura tried to quiet her breathing so that no one’s eyes would be drawn to her. 

Finally, the Dark Lord replied, “Very well Zabini. Do not disappoint me.”

He gave a nod of his head, and then left to go rejoin the circle.

“Look at that girl. You might be useful after all,” the Dark Lord said to her, returning to circle around her prone body on the ground. Laura painfully pulled her head so the back of it was resting on the ground so she could track his progress.

She gave him a small smile, feeling the blood from where she had bit her tongue at some point on her teeth. He gave one in response and in the back of her mind she was aware of how inhuman it looked, but outwardly did nothing.

His face wasn’t any worse than Bundy’s.

“Why are you not scared of me Muggle?” he asked almost conversationally.

Laura took in a deep breath and didn’t answer, just continued following him with her eyes. When his face contorted with anger though, she hurriedly said, “I can’t tell when you wish for me to be silent or when to speak. I figure that it’s better to stay silent rather to make some inane comment that won’t help my situation.”

The anger died down on his face, replaced with a calculating look.

He said nothing though, instead whipping around to face the people in the circle, “Dismissed! Keep on with your original duties.”

Laura let her head fall to the side as she watched most of the people in the circle leave in a rush, their dresses whipping around them as they stood. None of them even glanced her way, but Laura tried to pull as many details from them as she could. They had no other weapons beyond their sticks-wands- and they all looked to be men. Not many of them appeared to be physically fit.

The Dark Lord looked down at her and sneered, “Exactly where you should be,” he mused, “At the feet of those who are better than you.”

Laura shot him a hateful glare, but said nothing in response.

This only enraged him though, “You dare to turn such a gaze on me? Me?” then he raised his stick to point at her, “Crucio!”

The pain returned and Laura felt herself arch her back as she screamed.

After what felt like an eternity later the pain ended and Laura came back to herself with a choked gasp, feeling the blood from where she had bitten her tongue run down the back of her throat. Gagging at the taste, she let her head fall to the side so she wouldn’t drown from it.

“What right do you have to give me such a glare? I who am above all. Why do you, a Muggle, not fear me?” he hissed disdainfully at her.

Laura looked at where he was looming over her without moving her head, and sucked in a ragged breath before she answered, “Have you heard,” she started in a croaky tone, “of Josef Mengele?”

“A Muggle? Certainly not.” He dismissed.

“How about Hitler?”

A strange expression crossed his face and Laura continued, “Josef Mengele was one of Hitler’s scientist during the Holocaust, performing all sorts of evil acts on innocent people. How about Jeffrey Dahmer? He was a cannibal. He would pick up men, kill them, and then commit unspeakable acts on their bodies. Luis Garavito? He has the record for most people ever murdered, with a suspected victim count of over 300. You? You have caused me unimaginable pain, yes, but your face will never be the scariest in the world.”

There was a sort of stillness in the air that had Laura wonder if she had made a mistake mentioning those men. 

Then without a word, he turned and disappeared from the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Laura let out a deep breath as she tried to take stock of her situation. Her limbs were still shaking from whatever he had done and Laura didn’t bother to try to move just yet. 

Slowly taking in breaths, Laura slowly started shutting away the pain, taking it bit by bit as she slowly started to wrestle her screaming nerves under control. Slowly, ever so slowly, she rolled onto her side as she spat out the blood that had collected in her mouth.

Pushing herself up on one arm, she looked around the room in earnest. There was a dais of sorts that she was on, with a black throne-like chair on it. The rest of the room was empty, almost disturbingly so. Beyond the black throne, there was no other spot of colour in the grey room. 

Her arm shaking, Laura painfully managed to pull her legs beneath her, taking a moment in a bowed position as she sucked in deep breaths. Pushing herself up, she sank back onto her legs, letting her quivering arms rest as she tried to gain enough energy so she could get to her feet. One of the Death Eaters approached her, grabbed her arm, and started dragging her out of the room. She thought about fighting him back, but since she could barely breath, figured she should wait until a better moment. Eventually he threw her in a tiny cell, slamming the door shut behind her.

Everything hurt, but Laura focused on something instead, trying to continue to shove the pain back into a small corner of her mind. Carefully, she sat up, leaning against the wall and pulling her legs close to her.

She may be a captive here, but she wouldn’t give in.

She had pinky-promised.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things aren't very good but are about to get better.

Laura was aware that time passed, but she couldn’t say how much. They kept her in that window-less cell all the time except for when she was being dragged back to that throne room area to have her mind be examined and be tortured. It had been an incredibly long time since she had had a peaceful rest.

The Dark Lord hadn’t spoken to her directly again, and Laura could only be grateful for that. 

When Zabini was in her mind, he coached her on what she needed to create in order to fool anybody else who might inspect her mind. 

“You’re creating a person, a relationship, solely within your mind. It doesn’t have to be perfect, human memory isn’t, but it has to feel real. And that’s going to be hard,” he had told her, “It would be best to base it off of some other relationship at least, but that won’t necessarily have the inconsistencies we’re aiming for.”

Occasionally it wasn’t Zabini who entered and Laura held her breath each time, weaving the appropriate scene before them and showing how the boy came up and the overwhelming worry that he was going to steal her bag. 

Here was always where it became tricky, she had to not let out the fact that she had the secret while still making it seem as though there had been someone in her mind and messing with her memories. 

At one point, sitting across from each other as Laura tried to create a fake argument, she asked off-handedly, “Can I know your first name? Or would that be too dangerous?”

Zabini had stilled from where he was pointing at the more obvious flaws of the argument and gave her a long look.

“Ah,” she said after a moment, “It’s not that. You’re still working on seeing Muggles as not dirt.”

Zabini winced at her bluntness but didn’t automatically deny it, “It’s not that. Not anymore. Part of it would be too dangerous, if it slipped out that you know my first name another Legilimens might question what I’m doing.”

“But that’s not the whole reason?” Laura couldn’t help but ask, watching him carefully.

“It’s part of the reason I’ve tried to avoid using your name. We start to trust each other too much, care about each other too much, then eventually I’d probably snap and try and stop the Dark Lord’s crucio’s. Which would just lead to both us being dead.”

Laura made a small noise of acknowledgement, spinning so that she was staring at the fake scene in front of her instead, “Makes sense. Extended time spent with a person almost always means that the person starts to rely on them, start to care. That would be bad in our situation.”

Zabini snorted in response, “An understatement if I ever heard one.” Then in a rare case of unprofessionalism, Zabini ran a hand over his face, obviously thinking hard. But he finally just shook his head,   
“Come on, we’ve got to go.”

Laura took a deep breath in, relishing the few moments free of pain that she received when she was in her mind. Part of her wondered at this whole situation, at if she had gone about this whole secret thing the correct way. Part of her wondered if she was dealing with everything that was happening in a semi-healthy way or if one of these days she was going to wake up and collapse.

(she hoped not)

Zabini was never able to get that letter out, whenever he went out into the Muggle world it was to cause destruction, and there was never enough time to go mail a letter. Laura had shown him how to, but without an opportunity to do it, the idea couldn’t get anywhere.

(“I destroy a lot of trees,” he had told her blandly when she asked what he did on those outings, “I can’t bear to actually curse the muggles, not anymore, but I have to destroy something. I’m sure that someone is incredibly upset by that.”  
Laura had let out a hysterical laugh at that, making Zabini give her an alarmed look, but Laura couldn’t help herself, just curled up on the ground as she continued laughing hysterically, trying to keep the laughs from becoming sobs.)

(neither of them mention when she had had her breakdown in the mindscape, finally sobbing as her mind collapsed from what it had been showing before to a grey that stretched on endlessly, her hopelessly shining through everything. Zabini had broken whatever restriction he had and just pulled her tight against him, murmuring platitudes in her ear as he rocked her sobbing body back and forth)

(they couldn’t afford anything more than that)

/\

When she spent hours all alone, she thought about the words told to her. Thought about how all it was, was an address. How a resistance was being led from there. How Nott was a part of the resistance, but was actually working for the Dark Lord.

So when the pain became too much, when she had to spit out words, she said anything except for the address.

All the animals she hated, the boys she had had fancied, her favourite restaurants, anything except for the address.

She couldn’t give up the secret.

She couldn’t.

/\

Once, she fought back.

A Death Eater had been leering at her for a while, had been saying comments. But Laura ignored it with the ease of someone who had made it through middle school. 

But when he actually went to touch her, Laura snapped. Everything ached, everything hurt, she had bled more in the past however long she had been here than she had ever thought possible, her voice was usually nonexistent from the screaming caused by the crucio’s. But she did not take kick-boxing classes to just let people do whatever they wanted.

She shoved herself to a sitting position, and snapped an arm out, catching the Death Eater on the side of the head in an exaggerated slapping motion. As he fell backwards, Laura punched him in the face, watching with satisfaction as his mask broke beneath the force of her punch. She was breathing heavily, her hand hurt even more now, but she took pleasure in how his eyes widened and he scrambled back from her.

“Try it again, and I’ll break something.” she promised.

None of them tried to touch her again, but they had also made sure she couldn’t hurt anyone like that again. She wasn’t sure what exactly they had broken, she wasn’t a medical student by any means, but it felt like it was both her hand and her arm. They then seemed to realize that she wasn’t just a doll that occasionally was tortured, but rather a human being.

So they messed with her leg too. 

It was still there, no pieces were missing, but they had cut the back of her knee, severing the nerves there. She had never been a runner, but she had walked quickly. Now all she could do was hobble along.

(it hurt)

That was about the time when they stopped calling her “girl”. Instead it was “it”.

Laura wasn’t sure who had decided on using the less personal pronoun, who had decided to try and de-humanize her even more, but it grated on her nerves. She most certainly was not an “it”.

She thought about biting the nose of the next person to say that to her who leaned into her personal space.

No one ever really got close to her after that though. The only interaction she had was to be dragged from her cell to the giant room and then back again. In the quiet moments she wondered why they had to physically drag her, surely there was some sort of spell where she didn’t have to feel every bump along the way.

Then again, they all seemed to thrive on pain.

(she thought about what she had said to the Dark Lord that first night, about the serial killers)

(had their victims suffered this much? could the suffering compare?)

(who knew)

/\

A blast in what could have been the middle of the night had the entire place shaking, startling Laura so she lurched upwards, automatically using both arms before collapsing back onto the ground from the pain shooting up her ruined arm.

She whimpered slightly, curling around it the slightest, but thankfully the sharp pain subsided to a dull ache soon enough. 

She had just gotten back into a sitting position when another blast shook the entire building, and here was where the badly built house decided to take its turn at attacking her because pieces of the ceiling began falling and Laura was unable to move fast enough to dodge.

A piece hit her in the head and the small room spun around her, occasionally shaking from whatever was going on outside or around the mansion. Perhaps this would be how she finally died, being taken out by a broken house. Her parents would be devastated, although they were probably already worried sick out of their minds. Maybe with everything that happened she could get free tuition for university, she definitely deserved it. And she hadn’t even let the secret slip!

Suddenly there were hands on her shoulders and Laura forced herself to come back to reality, her good hand coming up to weakly grab onto the shirt of whoever was holding her.

Zabini was staring into her eyes worriedly, glancing to the door of her cell occasionally. Seeing that Laura’s eyes were focused on him, he gave a weak smile of relief. He took half a moment to put her broken arm in a makeshift sling, made from some cloth that he conjured out of nowhere.

“Potter’s forces are storming on the mansion. This is your chance.” He said as he slowly started to pull her to her feet. It hurt, but Laura forced her legs to respond as he half-supported, half-carried her to the door. One arm was wrapped around her mid-section as Zabini looked outside carefully.

“You…” she sucked in a pained breath at being jostled and ignored his murmured apology as she continued, “You have to come too.”

There was a long silence, punctuated by screams from different parts of the mansion.

“My goal is to get you out of here.” He finally responded.

Laura didn’t have a response for that. She wasn’t sure what she could say in response. She was stuck in the strange situation of being incredibly important, too important to be left behind, so she couldn’t even insist to Zabini to leave her behind.

“Why…” here she paused as Zabini adjusted his hold her, sucking in a pained breath, “Why now? I thought you couldn’t get them a letter?”

Zabini shook his head, “You’re right, I couldn’t. I’m hoping that this means that they finally managed to get rid of whatever was making the Dark Lord immortal. Perhaps they just don’t have any other options. Either way this is the best chance we have of getting you out of here.” 

“Where are we going?” she asked as they turned a corner.

“The anti-apparation wards are still set up, so we either have to make it to the meeting room or get outside the wards.”

“Meeting…” she started to ask, but let out a whine of pain that she held in as much as possible as Zabini was forced to swing them back around the corner to avoid people running by. Laura bit her lip as she pressed her face against Zabini’s shoulder to try and keep the noise from escaping her.

Zabini’s grip on her waist tightened and that was the only warning she had before he swung her around again, a spell crashing into the wall where they had been standing.

“What are you doing with it Blaise? The Dark Lord specifically ordered that it stay in it’s room,” the quiet drawl had Zabini cursing under his breath. Laura only licked her lips in nervousness, knowing that to speak right wouldn’t help the precarious situation at all.

“Theo,” he hissed in response, “Leading the resistance into the Dark Lord’s hideout? What will he say?”

Unfortunately Zabini’s attempt at throwing Nott off only had the other man laughing, “I did it on his orders! I let it slip that we had it, their secret keeper, and they rushed to prep themselves. They’re getting too close to destroying him, and the Dark Lord wanted to be able to prove that even now he could still destroy them. But, Blaise, you didn’t answer my question.”

There was a tense silence as Zabini tried to think of an excuse, any sort of excuse. But he apparently took too long because a vicious frown crossed Nott’s face.

“Oho? Is there really another traitor among the Dark Lord’s forces?” Nott gave a sort of deranged laugh at that before continuing, “I mean, we all knew Draco couldn’t cut it, not after that fiasco at the Malfoy mansion, and the Greengrass’ weren’t entirely surprising, but you? Come on Blaise, what are you thinking? It’s just a Muggle!”

At the last phrase, Zabini’s expression froze, mouth in a firm line even he straightened up the slightest, “She’s not just a Muggle. Her name is Laura. And she’s worth more of you than you could ever imagine.”

At that, Nott’s expression twisted into one full of hatred and he swung his wand up without any further conversation, a spell already on his lips.

Zabini dodged to the side, the light crashing into the wall instead.

“Let me go Zabini,” Laura muttered and he did so before pushing himself backwards with a muttered curse to avoid another light. She slid down to the ground, groaning at the pain from her nerves and leg as she watched the two.

Zabini whipped his wand in the direction of Nott, a muffled groan coming in response to Zabini’s attack. Painfully, Laura pulled herself in a more upright position as she watched the two battle.

Now the two were dueling each other, dancing around each other as they went. It was harder for Zabini because he kept having to cast a shield over Laura and she inwardly cursed her uselessness in this situation. 

Watching the two of them, Laura grew more and concerned. She didn’t know how magic power worked, how much you could use, but she imagined that it probably took a lot of energy. And probably the more powerful curses took more power.

Was Zabini strong?

Scrabbling at the wall, Laura painfully started pulling herself up. Zabini cast her a worried look, but Laura waved him off, staggering against the wall as her legs trembled from holding her weight. 

She started to make her way closer to the fight, and Zabini kept giving her panicked looks, but as she drew closer, his face became set with determination. He started herding Nott so that he put his back to Laura, clearly not thinking that the Muggle could do anything in this magical battle. 

Laura didn’t bother announcing her presence, just brought her foot up and swung it viciously in between his legs. 

Nott made a pain-filled sound before he fell to the ground, twitching.

“Take that,” Laura spat at the man, wincing as she crashed against the wall. Her leg burned and she slowly slid down the wall, taking deep breaths as she tried to not cry out. Zabini was staring at her in slight astonishment and clutching at his shoulder, blood spilling down his arm. She hadn’t even noticed him getting hit and internally cursed the Death Eaters again.

“You have a bad leg, you shouldn’t be using it,” he said as he limped over to her.

Laura let out a breathless laugh, “And you have a bad shoulder now. At this point we’re both injured enough where it doesn’t really matter.”

Zabini made a face at that before he pointed his wand at Nott and muttered some sort of spell that caused tree roots to grow and wrap themselves around Nott’s body. A last spell had Nott straighten almost painfully and the tree roots automatically adjusted themselves so that they continued being tight against Nott.

“I don’t want to hurt your shoulder.” Laura protested as Zabini made to pull her arm over his shoulders. 

That gave her a grim laugh before Zabini explained, “At this point, its like you said. We’re both injured enough where it doesn’t matter. It’s your left leg that’s messed up anyways, I have to put your left arm over my shoulder to help keep your weight off the leg. “

Laura grimaced in response, but didn’t otherwise argue as the two staggered upright, falling back against the wall for a moment before beginning to make their way down the hallway.

“What type of spell was that? It isn’t going to start eating your flesh or anything?” Laura asked to keep her mind off of the pain from her leg. 

Zabini shook his head as he responded, “Just a cutting curse. Perhaps Theo was simply hoping that I was joking, that I was under duress. Perhaps there was some part of him that acknowledged that what he was doing was wrong. Or perhaps he never had any more creativity than that. Who knows.”

“At least your shoulder won’t start being eaten. Let’s call that our good news of the day.”

“If that’s the best we can do today, I worry about our odds.”

(it said a lot about her sense of humour that she laughed at that)

/\

They eventually reached the meeting room, although it took a lot longer than either of them would have liked, having to stop and hide often. A couple of times they couldn’t hide in time, but Zabini managed to bluster his way through each time, passing off Laura as one of the other Death Eaters. 

One of the Death Eaters hadn’t completely believed it, but Laura had tipped her head back and greeted them with a sneer, “Don’t you have something better to do?” the Death Eater froze, and then did a weird head-bob thing and fled around the corner.

“Huh. Can’t believe that actually worked.”

“I vote we change that the best thing about today was that rather than my shoulder not being eaten.”

“Okay, fine by me,” Laura had agreed breathlessly.

(after that they avoided everyone possible. they didn’t want to try and risk it again)

For a moment they looked at the empty room before almost simultaneously taking a deep breath in and walking into the silent room. 

“It’s only the dais that we can apparate from, so we’re almost there.” Zabini said under his breath. The room didn’t have much to look at, she knew that from her unfortunate extended time lying on the floor without anything to do between crucios, but she still looked around with a bit of curiosity. Seeing a stain on the floor, Laura blinked at realizing that was probably where they had cut her leg.

Hurriedly looking away, a lump off to the side of the room caught her attention and she drew Zabini’s attention to it, “What is that?”

Zabini’s eyebrows furrowed before his expression cleared and he answered, “It’s your bag I believe, from when you were first brought here.”

“It’s still here?” she asked in wonder, nudging Zabini to walk over towards it. Shaking his head, Zabini and her made their way over to the bag lying forgotten against the wall. Reaching for the long-since discarded pack, Zabini gave it a distrustful look, hesitating a split second, but Laura only rolled her eyes at that, loosening her grip on Zabini’s shoulder. It was almost a sure-fire way to ensure that he helped her kneel down. Unzipping it just the slightest she saw with absolute disbelief that her coursework was still inside. Snorting a bit at the thought that at least she wouldn’t have to re-do any of her work, she zipped the bag closed, patting the side-pockets to confirm that yes, the taser and knife were still there.

Incredible.

“You should just leave it there.”

With a small half-shrug, Laura pulled the bag on, wincing as the weight settled on her back, but pushed it to the back of her mind for now. Zabini grunted a bit as he helped her to stand back up, settling her arm over his shoulder again.

“Or we could take it with us I guess.” He said under his breath, adjusting her weight a bit as they started to make their way to the dais. Laura’s only response was to snort slightly.

The dais was the only place that someone could apparate in the mansion, specifically made so that the Dark Lord could have dramatic entrances and exits. Zabini had always thought it was ridiculous, the Dark Lord didn’t need any more help to be dramatic.

Hopefully they could use that to their advantage. 

Of course, that was when the Dark Lord himself landed on the dais.

(their luck was horrible)

Zabini summed up both of their thoughts with one word. The Dark Lord was frozen mid-step, looking at the two of them confusion- and that was confusing all on itself because the Dark Lord’s favourite expression is anger and rage, not confusion- before it slide into a carefully neutral one.

“Zabini. The Secret Keeper was supposed to stay in its’ room.”

Zabini said nothing, but this close to him Laura could practically feel his heart racing. Laura was in the same position though, teeth practically wearing through her lip as she too tried to think of some way out.

“Just go for it.” She muttered to Zabini, and that was apparently all he needed, bolting for the dais. It actually worked for a minute, stunning the Dark Lord that he actually stumbled back half a step. Zabini was able to reach the dais and was abut to apparate when a curse hit him in the side, causing him to drop to the ground almost soundlessly. 

Laura let out a pained noise as her leg folded under her painfully, just barely catching herself from falling on Zabini with her arm. 

She was about to check his pulse because if he was dead, she was going to bring him back to life and murder him when a curse hit her in the back, causing her to arch her back as a completely different type of pain filled her. It wasn’t like the crucio’s with every nerve being lit on fire, but rather like something was holding onto her spine and attempting to pull it out.

But the Dark Lord was apparently not in the mood to be trifled with, a pale hand wrapping around her broken arm and hauling her backwards, the arm slipping from its temporary sling.

She cried out at the pain, but the Dark Lord didn’t even pause, twisting her and wrapping a hand around her throat.

Whatever noise she had been making was cut off as she tried to suck in air through the tight grip, but the Dark Lord was unrelenting. Her good hand tried to pull him off, but he didn’t even seem to notice. Her spine still hurt and it was as though the pain was spreading through her body.

He lifted her to her feet and then brought her in close to him, expression twisted as he stared at her and hissed, “I should have just killed you when I had the chance.”

Any answer she might have spat back at him was cut off by a door being slammed open. 

If the Dark Lord had been angry before, his expression was more than a couple shades past absolutely furious as he stared at the people entering in through the door. Laura risked a glance down at the unmoving form of Zabini and internally cursed this entire situation.

She was not made to deal with all this crap.

As the Dark Lord started to monologue at the trio of people coming in, Laura’s hand reached for her bag. It was still slung over her shoulder, the Dark Lord obviously thinking that it was useless. Never before had she been so thankful that the wizards underestimated everything about Muggles.

Carefully not looking at what she was doing, she pulled the taser out of the holder on the side, turning off the safety. She had lasted this long from all the crucio’s, she could do this.

Then without warning, she jammed the taser into the side of the Dark Lord’s neck, activating the electricity and watching with a vindictive pleasure as the Dark Lord froze, and then seized up, releasing her and allowing her to collapse to the ground coughing. 

The Dark Lord was on the ground as well, twitching from the electricity. He started to push himself up, but Laura was not about to let him do that.

She pushed herself to her knees, and jammed the taser into his side, holding it there as he screamed, his voice oddly taking different pitches as it went on.

Finally Laura pulled it away, watching in satisfaction as the Dark Lord didn’t move again. Then she utterly dismissed him from her mind, turning to where Zabini was lying awkwardly on his side. She pulled herself over painfully, doing her best to keep her broken arm still as she tried to see if she could help him in some way. Carefully, she pushed herself into a more upright position, her good hand hovering over his prone body.

“Here let me,” a feminine voice suddenly spoke next to her, and Laura couldn’t help it, she let out a wild punch that somehow actually connected, causing the woman to let out a yelp and fall backwards.

Laura knew that what she was doing is silly, that she didn’t really know Zabini, but dang it, after who-knows-how-long being stuck here with only one person even bothering to treat her like a human being she wasn’t going to let some random woman just come up and do things.

“Don’t touch him,” she snarled in a raspy voice at the woman, body aching and bleeding, but still positioning herself the best she can in order to protect Zabini. Her throat ached from the Dark Lord holding her and she swallowed back a couple coughs to glare at the woman.

“Who do you…” the words start from the second member of the trio, entering into her line of sight, but Laura just glared at him. She wasn’t scary: cuts everywhere, blood covering her, ruined arm, still shaking from overexposure to the cruciatus, something wrong with her spine and body, but she wasn’t going to let some wizard boss her around. 

(not ever again)

“Ron. Enough. It’s the Secret Keeper.” A third voice, oh so tired, but Laura couldn’t help but bristle at the title of “it”. She had had enough of that to last a lifetime.

Then the third member stepped into her sight and Laura narrowed her eyes at him, “Call me an ‘it’ again and I’ll murder you.”

“That would be slightly more convincing if you weren’t about 30 seconds from passing out,” the redhead said drily.

Laura snarled at him again, “I’ve lasted this long. You ever been tortured for days on end? I’ll force myself to stay awake as long as necessary.”

The redhead glared back at her and began to raise his wand. Laura automatically braced herself for the pain that would probably come after that, but before the situation could devolve further, Zabini made a small noise and everyone froze.

There was movement behind her, and then a hand wrapped around her wrist, deceptively light. Laura risked a glance down at him to see him struggle to pull himself up, “You know Potter. He’s the one who made you secret keeper.”

Laura looked back at the trio and narrowed her eyes, “He doesn’t look the same.”

A small cough came from Zabini as finished pulling himself into a sitting position, adjusting himself so he could deliberately place an arm in front of Laura, creating a barrier between her and the trio in front of them. 

“It’s been about a year, of course he’s probably going to look different. The redhead is Ron Weasley. The woman is Hermione Granger. They’re the leaders of the resistance. Your voice, is that from the Dark Lord?”

The three exchanged glances at that before Granger hesitantly asked, “Aren’t you a Death Eater? Aren’t you going to kill her and then us?”

Laura made a sound of inarticulate rage, her hand reaching forward as though she was trying to wrap it around Granger’s neck, but Zabini leaned further in front of her, “No Laura, Laura, she doesn’t know, stop.” He asked tiredly as Laura tried to pull herself back to her feet.

“I don’t care if she doesn’t know, she…she…!” but a rush of pain had Laura collapse partially onto Zabini’s back, letting out a muttered apology at his grunt of pain from her sudden weight on his injured self.

“Parvati is coming now. She’s a Healer. Could she look you two over to make sure that everything is okay?” Granger said carefully, hands up as she looked over the two critically.

Neither of them answered her, just watched the trio warily. The redhead, Weasley, and Potter were looking at the Dark Lord muttering something under their breaths as they started casting something over the Dark Lord.

Laura’s breath hitched at the sight of the wands, and she gripped the back of Zabini’s shirt with her fist as she not-so-subtly used the bigger man as a potential shield. Zabini didn’t even bother to tell her otherwise, his hand grasping for his wand. When he finally had it in hand, he didn’t point it at the trio, but he didn’t put it away either, clearly ready to curse the three if need be.

“Hey, we’re the good guys, you don’t need to worry about us hurting you guys,” Granger said indignantly, making the redhead look over sharply. He started over towards them and Zabini raised his wand the slightest at the look in his eyes.

Thankfully before anything could happen, Potter stepped in.

“Enough. They’ve been through Hell, I think we can give them a bit of leeway. Hermione, come help me with Riddle. Ron, go get Parvati here now. The two of them need a Healer badly.” Potter instructed tiredly.

With a nod, the two immediately did as they were told, and Zabini and Laura relaxed a tiny amount as the attention was turned away from the two of them. 

“Riddle?” Laura asked quietly, but Zabini only shook his head in response.

After a long silence, Laura asked, “How bad was that curse?” She could hear the shakiness of Zabini’s breath, saw how his arm trembled but he refused to let go of his wand.

A shaky intake of breath, “Bad.”

“Will you let this Healer lady look at you?”

Almost immediately Zabini shook his head, “She should look at you first. I blacked out for a moment, but I did notice that the Dark Lord cursed you. I’ll be fine.”

“Liar.” Was the only thing she said in response, voice quiet. Zabini tensed slightly, but before he could do anything else, the redhead was back, accompanied by two other people.

“Blaise?”

A blond man rushed over to the two, expression filled with wonder as he looked at Zabini, an Indian woman also rushing over when she caught sight of them.

“Draco? What are you doing here, I thought you got injured months ago!” Zabini asked with mixed parts astonishment and concern as his body relaxed just the slightest.

As the blond one, Draco, started to pull out his wand however, Zabini tensed up again, wand raising just the slightest. Instantly Draco froze, wand halfway out of his robe before he dropped it back in his pocket, raising his hands the slightest.

“I know you’ve been through hell, I know she’s been through an even worse hell, you’ve protected her as much as you could, let us help you two.” Everything about him screamed that he was being earnest, but Zabini still didn’t move. It was telling that none of the newcomers did anything even as the trio worked on the still form of Voldemort. Draco and the Indian woman watched the two of them carefully though, and Laura let out a shaky breath, releasing her hold on Zabini’s shirt.

“What do we have to lose at this point?” Laura said quietly to Zabini before she twisted around him to look at Draco, “He got hit with some sort of curse, can you help him?”

Zabini hissed at Laura, but Draco’s eyes snapped to Zabini, “Blaise, what type of curse? The one on your shoulder?”

“No, he got hit on the side by the Dark Lord, just before you all came in,” Laura responded, even as Zabini gripped his wand tighter.

“You’ve known me through school Blaise, I swear to you on my mother’s life that I will not harm you nor the girl. I swear on your owl that I won’t hurt either of you.” Draco swore to Zabini. And Laura wasn’t sure what it was that made him change his mind, but Zabini finally lowered his wand.

“You should look at Laura first though, she’s had the cruciatus extensively over the last couple weeks, her arm is practically shattered, her leg was cut, she was choked by the Dark Lord and hit by some sort of curse that I didn’t recognize, and she’s been hit on the head by some rubble,” Zabini listed off.

Laura smacked him gently, “You’re the one who got cursed by the nutter, this one might actually legitimately be eating you from the inside!”

But it seemed that the promise of medical attention, real true medical attention, meant that whatever energy that she had been using to stay awake just drained out of her and she slumped against Zabini’s back.

“Do not become a martyr. If I wake up and I find out you died because you insisted that I get treatment first, I’ll hurt you.” she promised in a slurred voice.

Zabini let out a shaky breath, but finally, “Okay.”

Then for the first time in a long time, Laura let her eyes fall shut, and she fell unconscious without worry.

(please don’t let this be a dream)

\--

She woke up with a start, eyes snapping open as she sucked in a deep breath, fingers scrabbling at what felt like sheets underneath her fingernails. The ceiling was far away, arched and brown, and for some reason all she could concentrate on was the fact that the ceiling was brown, that it wasn’t just a black ceiling, a grey one, but a brown one, and she wondered where they had taken her now and what new torture they had devised and there were hands on her shoulders, holding her down, these people were new, she didn’t recognize any of them at all and a bottle was coming near her and she didn’t want it, she didn’t want it, she wanted out, she couldn’t breath in here, she had to get, had to get out!

“….ra! La…ra! Laura!” 

She knew that voice, she….that was someone she knew, someone, someone……

“Laura, we’re safe, Laura I promise, I swear, you’re not in danger anymore.” She took in a shuddering breath, but couldn’t calm down.

There was muttering and then the hands on her shoulders let go, the unfamiliar faces left and was replaced by an achingly familiar one.

“Breath Laura, you have to breath.”

“Zabini,” she gasped out, hand reaching blindly and he took it, gripping it tightly.

He started taking measured breaths and Laura automatically started copying him, and soon enough the panic faded from her mind and Zabini gave her a tired smile.

“Where are we?” she asked in a raspy voice, beginning to push herself up to a sitting position. But a gentle hand on her shoulder held her down and she looked up warily at the woman holding her down. She looked kind, wearing white and a wand in her other hand.

“Not quite yet Miss Crews, the spells and potions are still doing their job to heal you up, I don’t want you to injure yourself more,” she said in a no-nonsense tone, wand flicking over Laura, expertly ignoring Laura’s cringes from the wand as she continued on. It was only Zabini’s careful grip on Laura’s hand that had her not attempting to flee.

“The curse that hit your back was the worse, I won’t go into details because I think you’ve suffered enough without reenacting what could have happened. Just know that it was bad. No one was really certain what happened to your arm, so we went slowly. It appears that most of the bones were broken, but without knowing the specifics we didn’t want to risk making anything worse so it’s slow going.   
The blow to your head caused a small concussion, but not a terrible one all things considered. We fixed your leg up just fine, that was a simple cutting spell, so you should have no problems.” She finished, her wand conjuring a piece of what looked to be parchment and quill as the quill automatically began writing.

Casting one last glance over her, she gave an approving nod, “My name is Madam Pomfrey. I’m the lead Healer for the resistance. Thank you for what you did, you saved our lives.” Then she turned and left, entering into a different room and closing the door behind her.

Blinking a bit at the suddenness, Laura turned to look at Zabini in confusion.

He gave her an exhausted smile, leaning back in the chair as he let go of her hand, “Welcome to Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. Every kid who shows magical prowess is invited here at age eleven to learn how to use their magic. This is the Hospital Wing.”

Laura looked around at the room with a mix of wariness and wonder. Beds lined the walls, sunlight streaming in from the windows on one side. The beds might have been occupied at one point, but they were all empty now, blankets strewn all over.

“Were there other people here? Or have I been out a long time?” Laura asked.

“Combination of both. The resistance was able to stop the Dark Lord, but there were still injuries that needed to be taken care of. It took longer for you because you’re a Muggle, but also because of all the stress on your body. There were a couple of scary moments.” Zabini explained and Laura looked at him closely. He looked exhausted, a bandage peeking out from his shirt collar and he winced as he shifted in the chair.

“What about you?”

Inexplicably, Zabini gave a low chuckle, “As it turned out, the spell that the Dark Lord cast on me was eating my insides.”

Laura blanched at that and started to haul herself up to whack him, but Madam Pomfrey appeared out of nowhere like a hawk to gently push her back onto the bed. Although she did take a moment to help Laura into a better sitting position.

“Don’t strain yourself!” she scolded before she disappeared again, shutting the door behind her as she went. Laura blinked at the suddenness of it all, and shot a confused look at Zabini who only looked at her with amusement.

“Madam Pomfrey has always been like,” Zabini explained, “A no-nonsense attitude but a heart of gold. She, along with Draco, were the ones who healed you.”

Laura reached carefully for the glass of water on the stand next to her, Zabini handing it over before she had to stretch too far. She drank a little bit of it and then held the cup in her lap, “What was wrong with my spine?”

“Do you really want to know?”

At Laura’s insistent nod, Zabini sighed and said, “It was a Dark Curse designed to pull your spine out of your body.”

Laura blinked at that and replied faintly, “Oh. That’s not good.”

“You should be fine now, Healer Pomfrey is one of the best in business,” here Zabini paused, “And apparently Draco is up there as well.” Not sure what to say in response, Laura sipped some more water, watching Zabini out of the corner of her eye. He seemed to be lost in thought, perhaps a memory, as he stared at his hands, a small half-smile on his face.

“What happens now?” Laura finally asked making Zabini look up at her, smile gone.

Finally he gave a small shrug, “The war’s over finally, it’s just the clean-up now. They’ll probably keep you here in the Hospital Wing for a while to make sure that there aren’t any lasting side-effects from everything that’s happened. After that it’s up to you.”

“Oh. Any suggestions Zabini?”

“Blaise.” At that, Laura’s attention snapped over to Zabini. He was staring at his own hands intently, but he looked up at her and continued, “Call me Blaise.”

Laura’s lips twitched in a smile and she nodded once.

“I have a suggestion if you’d like to hear it.”

The unexpected voice had the two of them jumping, Zabini’s wand in hand as he jumped to his feet, Laura whipping the glass up and spilling the water all over her shoulder and the table as she prepared to throw it.

The dark-haired man froze, hands automatically raising, “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Frozen for a second, Zabini practically collapsed back into the chair, face pale as he lowered the wand and rubbed a hand over his face, “Merlin Potter, don’t do that.”

Slowly, Laura lowered the glass, trying to ignore the water now covering her. This was the one from the train, the one who had asked her to be the Secret Keeper and had dragged her into this world and their world.

“You kept the secret. The Wizarding world owes you a debt of gratitude that we can’t ever repay. We…well, that is, I, I wanted to apologize for what happened. I thought that I had kept you a secret, but Theo…Nott, he, he found out. I apologize for what you went through,” Potter said, exhaustion lining every inch of his body as he slowly approached the bed. Laura looked away from him, choosing instead to look at her hands wrapped around the glass. Her right arm was covered in small scars, remnants of what had happened. She tapped her fingers against the glass and didn’t respond as Potter drew next to her bed.

“We’ve never formally been introduced. My name is Harry Potter. Let me show you what you protected. That magic can also be used for good.”

Laura looked up from her hands at the man she had met so long ago, the one who had given her the secret to protect. His hand didn’t waver from where he was offering it to her and she shot a nervous look at Zabini, no Blaise. He was sitting in the chair, pale from the rush of standing up, but he gave her a small smile and a reassuring nod. She reached to put the cup on the stand, Blaise taking it from her.

Then reaching out, Laura took Harry Potter’s hand in her own.

(she might still be covered in water on one side. still in pain a bit. a muggle. but looking at potter’s hopeful look, perhaps this world wasn’t actually that bad)


	3. The Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which fairy tales don't always happen the way we expect them to, Harry Potter is -eventually- the savior, and things are blown up.

Years after the war, Harry is startled by a Muggle movie his kids have coerced him to watch. The entire thing makes his skin scrawl just a tad, the idea of battling and spying hitting a bit too close to home, but the kids are too happy to be sitting there as a family that he can’t take that away from them.

He takes notice of one thing in particular.

The entire thing hinges on the nerves of one shaky pilot turned traitor. 

It takes him back to the entire turning point of the war.

/\

He doesn’t know what happened to the secret-keeper. That is the entire point of finding a random muggle, being able to stand under torture and never being able to let slip the identity of the secret-keeper.

No one is supposed to even know what she looks like beyond himself.

It is supposed to keep her safe.

Keep them safe.

He argues that if no one knows who the secret keeper is, the Death Eaters can’t get to them.

(no more repeats of what happened to Padma)

No one even knows that she’s gone missing.

/\

Here’s what happened.

A little boy was told he had the power to save the world.

No one expected the little boy to not save the world in one fell swoop.

/\

So here’s what happened because of that.

He doesn’t know the dangers that come with war. That people are willing to be on the “evil” side. That people are willing to pretend, to posture, to become a close confidante in order to serve the other side.

He doesn’t know how to not tell people when they ask.

So Nott talks to him about the secret keeper, bringing in the others to help him convince Harry to share a picture, because what happens if Harry himself is lost in the war?

He means to not tell anyone who she is, to give no description, but the others are insistent. In the end, Parvati gives the final argument, and after what happened to Padma, Harry bows his head in acknowledgement.

(what if you get in trouble? what if we lose you?)

He goes out, returns to the subway, sees her again and sneaks a single photo. He presents it to the others, but gives no other details.

(how is he to know he just doomed her?)

After all, the secret keeper may keep the secret safe, but who watches over the secret keeper?

/\

The story from his side goes like this.

He enters the wizarding world ignorant. He flies through school by the seat of his pants. He makes friends, makes enemies, learns, grows.

But it’s not enough.

The horcruxes aren’t easy to find. They’re missing one. The cup is moved.

And so the war goes on.

Grimmauld place is compromised. Hogwarts is overrun, then taken back. No one’s sure why Hogwarts becomes a neutral ground, but no one’s going to question it.

They go to Northern Ireland first. A town called Whitehead.

They have to leave after six months.

(no one knows who spilled the secret, there was no telling who had told the death eaters. three people died in the panic and escape)

Hermione picks a town called Alnwick, near-ish the border of Scotland. This time they don’t let everyone know where headquarters is, only the people who actually have important things to tell him, the ones who consistently report to Harry. The ones he believes to be on his side.

It’s eleven months later that they flee.

(no one likes thinking about what happened to Padma)

He takes it upon himself, he will find the next secret keeper. He takes them all to Luton, to a house he finds, and makes everyone stay there. He recruits Hermione and Ron to make sure that none of them leave. If they don’t know the name of the home, they can’t share the address, even if they’re able to apparate to the home.

He is wandering the subway in London when he sees it. The woman is about his age, perhaps a bit older. Her blond hair hangs over her shoulder in a braid, her backpack a solid black colour. She has nothing about her that screams notice me, if anything the way she is dressed and standing indicated that she would be more willing to clock them in the face, but in her hand is a keychain. And hanging from that is a deer charm.

It wouldn’t hurt to ask.

So he does.

And she says yes.

(who would’ve imagined that everything depended on a charm?)

For months they do their best, do research, fight a war that their parents had failed to finish. No one tries to find the secret keeper. No one wants to be the one to bring Voldy’s attention to her. 

(they hope that there weren’t any traitors. it is a false hope)

/\

The war drags on. It’s not something they think about often, they have more important things to worry about. But in the random moments when they actually can have a moment, it’s a topic that comes up.

No one thinks about how it must be for the actual participants of the war, to be slogging through battle after battle, waiting games and psychological games, the absolute horrible time trying to keep up morale.

But the major players in the war, the generals, the council, they feel it so much.

Harry is even worse because everyone thinks that he should finish it.

Not everyone agrees with his council. With the people he has chosen. It’s always the older people who complain, but Harry looks at Astoria Greengrass, Draco Malfoy, Graham Montague, looks at the older people and tells them to bugger off.

If they wish to run this war, then they’re welcome to it.

Funny how the complaints stop after that.

/\

They find a clue. A turncoat comes to Astoria, bleeding, dying, but with information. The cup is in Knockturn Alley.

Astoria brings Harry to the mostly-dead man in secret, her face pale. 

With a final breath, the wizard pulls Harry down to his mouth, breathing out, “Nott is inner circle.”

Then he breathes out his last, grip going slack in Harry’s shirt.

Harry’s face goes white as he stares at the dead wizard. He doesn’t even know his name.

(a shaky pilot with shaky nerves, choosing to do the right thing)

“How did he find you?” he gets out in a strangled voice to Astoria.

She shakes her head, her shoulders rising minutely, “He apparated to the emergency meeting point, I didn’t know who it was, I thought it was one of the deep-cover agents, but when I got there, it was him, and he only said that the cup was in Knockturn Alley and that Nott was inner circle. Then when I said he was wrong, he insisted on telling it to you directly. He wouldn’t let me heal him.”

“Does anybody else know this?” Harry asks insistently.

Astoria shakes her head again, “I brought you straight here.”

Here she hesitates and Harry looks at her with concern. Astoria doesn’t hesitate.

(not anymore)

“What is it?”

She hesitates for another moment, looking at the still body next to them, “If Nott is really inner circle…” she bites her lip before spitting it out, “He was the one to push to know who the secret keeper is.”

Everything about Harry freezes. 

(the secret keeper has been captured for 7 months)

/\

Harry takes Ron and Hermione to Grimmauld Place. It might have been overrun three years ago, but Kreacher is nothing but thorough when it comes to his domain.

He has to talk to someone about what he’s learned.

How can he trust this random man?

How can he trust Astoria?

How can he trust Theo?

(can he still trust his oldest friends)

(he has to)

He explains everything that he’s learned to them and asks what they want to do.

“Get the cup.”

“Get the secret keeper.”

Ron and Hermione glance at each other as they communicate with only their eyes. Harry only waits patiently.

“Two-pronged attack,” Ron proposes, “The cup is vitally important, it will change the entire war. But the secret keeper is the only thing keeping us not dead. If either mission fails, well. The war might be over.”

“And what about Nott?” Hermione shoots back.

Ron thinks about it for a moment, hand on his chin, finger tapping as he mutters.

Harry watches and says nothing. Long term strategy is something he isn’t as good at as Ron, even after a three-year war.

“There are people we trust absolutely, people we know who can’t possibly betray us.” Ron looks at Harry as he says this who gives a nod when it becomes clear that Ron is waiting for him to say something. Continuing, he says, “A two-pronged approach. One that everyone knows of- attack Knockturn Alley. Bring all our allies in. Get that cup. End his immortality.”

“We don’t know where the secret keeper is, which makes rescuing her a bit difficult. During this attack however, we get some Death Eaters and find out where she is. Nott might even lead us to her.” Ron proposed.

Hermione thinks it over in her mind, Harry thinks it over, and in the end, all three of them have a conversation with just their eyes before nodding.

It has to work.

One action can change the future.

(shaky pilot with shaky nerves)

/\

He gathers the people who he knows to be on his side, or at least those who he wants to believe are on his side. Standing at his side are Hermione, Ron, and Astoria.

Neville looks over the information, face turning thunderous at the information that Nott is probably Inner Circle.

Draco closes his eyes and presses the palms of his hands against his forehead. Theo (nott) is (was) one of his closest friends. Betrayals hurt.

Graham says nothing, fingers crossed in front of him as he stares at nothing. 

Parvati is fingering her kirpan, thoughts dancing across her face.

George is designing something on a piece of paper, his quill scratching in the way that suggest he is creating something nasty.

Ginny is slowly banging her head against the table.

Luna holds up her hand to stop any questions or comments before anyone asks them and they all turn to her. Her gaze is unfocused, eyes flicking back and forth as she stared at something only she could see.

There’s silence as everyone stares at her, Ginny turning her head on the table to watch curiously.

No one really knows what she sees, how she sees, but they know that she sees something. 

“Seven months…two weeks…six days. Oh my. That is a very long time,” she murmurs finally, her hand lowering to rest on the table. “When life hangs in the balance, how do you decide which way to tip it?” she says in a low tone, eyes staring at something only she sees. 

Everyone waits as she stares some more. She never showed this in Hogwarts, it had no use there, and she almost never uses it for the war.

How can she?

To try and direct Fate is to ask for it to be changed.

(never in their favour)

(…padma…)

Finally, she blinks, eyes coming back into focus as she looks at the others around the table, “That’s all I have.”

Neville runs a hand over his face, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in before letting it out again, “Alright. Alright. Nott’s a traitor. The secret keeper is captured. But we know where the last cup is, yay. We don’t know where the secret keeper is.”

“Probably near You-Know-Who,” Ginny input.

They all pause, then nod, and Neville continues, “We don’t know where he is then, so we can’t get to her. If we find out where she is, then great, but until then, I think our focus should be the cup. If we can get that and get it destroyed, then well. We should have won the war.”

“How are we going to get to it? It could be anywhere in the alley,” Ginny asks.

There is a silence, then Graham says, “Fiendfyre the entire thing.”

The silence this time is strained, and everyone tries to think of something to say that would be an appropriate response. Perhaps it stems from his time in that Vanishing Cabinet, but Graham has always been more inclined to disregarding potential collateral damage. 

“Wait, that might actually work,” Parvati says and everyone turns to look at her instead.

Parvati narrows her eyes at them all, “No listen. We can’t search the entire alley, they’ll see us coming, they’ll move the cup, and our advantage is lost. We set up a barrier. A barrier so nothing Darke can get through. The cup won’t be able to leave, but people should.”

“That kind of barrier takes a lot. If even one of the people holding it moves, then the barrier falls.” Neville points out.

“What do you mean barrier?” Harry asks.

“It’s a type of magic from India. I think. But it requires at least four people, set in a square, who channel their magic through runes to keep a Darke object within. It’s meant for Fiendfyre and similar spells, in case they end up in a civilian area.” Draco explains, crossing his arms as he stares at the table, “It would be our best chance, but it requires preparation and magical power that I don’t think most people   
have.”

“It’s not power, but rather concentration,” Parvati corrects, “You can have a squib stand as one of the corners, but so long as they have the utmost concentration then it will hold. It would also be best if it were people who were really good, like those who have been untouched by any type of dark magic.”

“Will it let people out?” Harry asks.

George speaks up for the first time, “Even if it doesn’t, would that be so bad?”

There’s another silence, but no one knows what to say to that. While it’s a true thought, it’s still a hard one to swallow.

“Do you have the runes with you?” Hermione asks, and Parvati pauses, fingers dancing along her kirpan as she thinks.

“I believe that we have them at my home, but I’m not sure. Professor Babbling might know of them. I can go check and be back within two hours,” Parvati offers.

The trio look at each other and then nod. She’s gone within the minute, the door closing in the distance.

“Let’s find four people with the best concentration then. We’ll also get everyone we can to Diagon Alley the same day as well; the more people, the harder it will be to find the four. We’ll have to put at least two, maybe even three wizards and/or witches on each corner to defend them.” Ron says, already thinking three steps ahead.

“And what about Nott?” Neville asks.

“We have to figure out a cover story, one that he’ll believe and will pass on. It will have to coincide with the real one close enough for our actions to not seem odd. Theo, he, well. I would say that he isn’t one for lots of planning, but…” Draco pauses, a pained expression flying across his face before it smooths back over to indifference, “It would be better to be safe than sorry.”

There’s another pained pause. They seem to like those. 

Then Harry lets out a sigh as he drops to the table, “Let’s figure out a plan then.”

/\

Then a miracle. 

It actually works.

They’ve spun a plan for everyone, with only the people involved directly knowing the truth of what is to happen.

An attack on Gringotts. An attack on the wand makers. A full out assault on Diagon Alley.

Except for the four and their protectors.

Gabrielle Delacour. Dennis Crevey. Mikaela Goldstein. Malcolm Baddock.

They’re given the most vicious fighters. Not necessarily the best ones, or the most careful ones, but the ones that make most people nervous to be around them. The ones that probably use forbidden magic, the ones who get creative with their spells, the ones who give off a vibe. In the end, they only have one person assigned as their specific protector.

George has always been one to give off a vibe at certain times. Usually he keeps it under wraps, but there are days, times, where he slips. His grins start slanting, his eyes become wilder, his inventions and ideas start becoming more cruel. He gets Gabrielle Delacour. She’s his sister-in-law after all.

Lee Jordan is that way also. It’s possible that something in him broke when Fred died, and it’s only gotten worse the longer the war goes on. He used to be carefree, the relaxing third wheel to the Weasley twins. Then they took his friends, they took his family, and finally, they took his voice. Dennis and him bonded over their loses after Lee loses his voice, Dennis carefully showing him Muggle sign language. The two are practically inseparable, this instance isn’t any different.

Anthony Goldstein has always been fiercely protective of his little cousin. Even in Hogwarts he was ruthless when someone decided to pick on the small girl. Mikaela likes to complain about it, but when it keeps her alive throughout the war and her experiments, no one tries to curb him. She’s his only family left. He’s assigned to her.

Tracey Davis started watching over the Slytherins in seventh year; Malcolm was in charge of the younger students. The two tag-teamed the Slytherins and were probably the only reason that the Slytherins made it through. It hasn’t changed through the war, Malcolm being the perfectionist that he is and Tracey being so protective, the two are a force to be reckoned with on any battlefield they end up on.

There are others of course, others who are also there to keep an eye out on the corners, but those are the main ones. The others don’t even know what they’re watching for necessarily, but they know that the end of the war depends on them keeping the Death Eaters occupied.

Everyone seems to sense that this is the final push, so no one stays home. Harry sends out the message that they have the next target, that this will be what takes You-Know-Who down, and he’s never sent that before. It rings through people as the read or hear the message, and everyone gears up for the fight.

It’s ten minutes before the assault begins that Nott approaches Harry.

He approaches Harry that the Dark Lord has the secret keeper. And that he knows where that is.

The Selwyn mansion. A stately, imposing, building that had almost been forgotten by wizards. Passed down for generations, it was warded to near impossible standards. 

But Nott had the key.

His eyes glimmered, and Harry wishes he could say that it was joy, excitement, but it borders on cruel and Harry can’t ignore that. 

Instead, Harry closes his eyes and thinks. He’s not bad at it, but Ron is the strategist, Hermione the researcher.

He nods, tells Nott to let him get Ron and Hermione, and then hurries away before Nott can say anything more.

He grabs the closest people he can find, Draco and Astoria, standing close in a small alcove, and he spends half a second wondering about that before hissing, “Nott approached me. Get Ginny. Astoria, you’re coming with. You and Ginny are going to bring that mansion down.”

An unholy grin spreads across Astoria’s face, and Harry hurries on, looking for Ron and Hermione. The next person he meets is Parvati, and he gets her on their small team as well.

He wishes that Nott had approached a little bit earlier, he could have gotten more people, but he’ll work with what he can get. He manages to grab Ron and Hermione before they leave for the Alley, whispering to them what’s happened. Hermione’s face tightens, Ron starts plotting, and they hurry back to Nott.

Ron whispers for his Patronus and the dog appears, receives Ron’s message and disappears through the wall as they turn the corner to see Nott waiting there nervously. He relaxes when he sees them, and Harry wishes again that Nott hadn’t betrayed them.

Perhaps he still is optimistic, but some days it’s the only thing that gets him through.

Nott looks at the three, and they can see the hidden glee at getting the Golden Trio to fall for this trap.

They say nothing in response, only looking at him levelly. He narrows his eyes at them, wondering at why they weren’t more excited at this news. 

Harry only offers him a tired smile, “One last hurrah right?”

Nott stares at him, evaluating, then nods, “The Selwyn mansion is behind the place formerly known as the Goyle Manor.”

Then he disapparates.

The trio looks at each other.

“Behind a Fidelius Charm? Copy-cat.” Ron snorts before continuing, “By only giving us the location, he has the hope that we’ll splinch and the Death Eaters no doubt waiting for us only have to scrape our bodies off the floor.”

“Good thing I know where Goyle Manor is.” Draco says, emerging from the shadows as he frowns at the place where Nott had disapparated from, “Astoria and I have both been there. We can take you along with us.”

Astoria, emerging behind him, nods.

“Graham will pull back and act as the leader. He can direct things…decently,” Parvati announces from the doorway behind them, Ginny at her side.

They look around at each other, and Harry speaks up, “We’re walking into a trap. If any of you want to stay here, I understand.”

No one moves beyond Ginny resolutely shaking her head, “I haven’t been practicing blowing things up for nothing Harry.”

/\

Nott barely waits for them to arrive before he turns a sickly grin on them, says, “Good luck fighting your way through,” and then he’s gone, disappearing in the midst of the Death Eaters waiting for them.

The other four apparate in, and the Death Eaters laugh at the sight of their reinforcements.

Harry looks at the crowd in silence, to Hermione who only sniffs derisively, then at Ron who slowly starts to smirk.

“Go ahead Ginny,” he says, and Ginny grins, slowly drawing her wand from its holster.

She stalks forward three steps, ignoring the badly aimed spells sent her way. She raises her wand and shouts, “Bombarda maxima!”

The Death Eaters scatter. The ground is ripped apart.

Getting through to the mansion is surprisingly easy once they unleash Astoria and Ginny on them. The Death Eaters are prepared for the trio, for their optimism even in the face of a three-year war that’s been devastating for both sides.

But Astoria has been surprisingly effective with her spy network, showing just how much information she has gathered about the Death Eaters when she walks into rooms and talks them all down.

And Ginny has been a force of nature ever since she was small; she demolishes rooms as easily as she breathes. Death Eaters go running from her, and there’s a reason Ginny doesn’t go out into battle often, she’s their trump card, and if they’ve never seen her fight before, they have no way of defending them. 

It’s Ginny who breaks down the door to the mansion, but it’s Astoria who enters first, head held high as she glides in and several Death Eaters choke on their spells, wands falling to their sides.

“Haven’t you gotten tired of killing your children?” is all she asks, mildly just making conversation, but it’s enough for many of them to shudder, then disapparate out.

But there are still a lot left, and they raise their wands, spells on their lips. Astoria only moves to the side, managing to look graceful as she does so, and they are met with Ginny on her heels, blasting curse at the ready.

Harry watches from the doorway as Ginny successfully takes on the mansion, braid flying around her as she dances through the crowd, eyes darting from face to face, expression fierce as she takes down rooms.

The trio follow after, Draco and Parvati after them.

It feels almost too easy, but no one acknowledges that out loud, simply moving through the mansion and dealing with any Death Eaters left over. 

Ginny shakes the mansion, dust falling from above them as she blows through walls.

They come to a room that has a solitary Death Eater in it, sitting quietly on an overturned dresser. They look up, and when they see them, only sigh and reach up to remove the mask.

It’s Pansy Parkinson, and she looks at them with tired eyes. She looks over the five of them, wands- and kirpan- at the ready and only lets the mask fall to the ground. It hits with a dull thud.

“It’s been a long three years,” is her only explanation, “The Dark Lord went to the Alley, but when he won’t see you there, he’ll come back here. The only place to apparate inside the mansion is from the meeting room. In the middle.”

In the end, it’s Draco who steps forward, wand pointed at the ground. He walks towards Pansy as though at any moment she’ll bolt, and she tenses, but doesn’t actually move away.

He kneels in front of her, hands gentle on her knees as he looks at her.

And then inexplicably, she starts crying. The others look at anything else as Draco and her murmur to each other in low tones. Politely not listening as he comforts her.

In the end, the trio leave the room as Parvati stays behind to give them privacy.

War is never simple.

And it’s the children who pay the price.

Eventually, Parvati and Draco emerge from the room, Pansy following along quietly. The trio exchange a glance, but say nothing in response.

They move from room to room, clearing the mansion bit by bit. Perhaps if it had only been the three of them, perhaps if Nott hadn’t been revealed as a traitor, they would have been overwhelmed. 

But how could Nott take into account the turncoat that had alerted Astoria, how could he take into account that it wasn’t just him who changed their minds? For it is an unfortunate note that people are often selfish and don’t remember to think of others.

(but when they do, lives change)

Instead, Ginny and Astoria rip through the mansion. After all, they aren’t there to find the secret keeper, they are there to break through the Death Eaters.

Pansy directs the others through the mansion, her face falling at the sight of the beautiful ancient home destroyed. But she says nothing to stop it, only leads them through the increasingly damaged home.

Then they stop in confusion, in concern. This hallway is surprisingly empty, Death Eaters lying crumpled in corners and out of the way, looking suspiciously as though they are dead, which is entirely possible considering how Ginny is ripping through the mansion, but these wounds don’t match what she’s been doing.

They move cautiously through the stillness, wands ready.

Turning a corner, they’re surprised to see Nott lying on the ground, roots of some sort binding him to the ground. He is breathing lightly, struggling to pull in breaths. Glancing at each other, Ron carefully starts to work on the roots. Slowly, reluctantly, they slither away from Nott, revealing his battered body.

He sucks in a better breath and then lets out a rattling cough, blood appearing on his lips. Tellingly, no one moves to heal him. He only looks at them in confusion, fingers scrabbling uselessly on the ground, perhaps searching for his wand, perhaps just to prove he could still move them. Several of them look to be broken.

“Wh…wh…why?” he rasps out. He seems to be looking only at Draco, perhaps Pansy. Draco takes some cautious steps forward before he kneels very carefully next to Nott.

Nott grasps at Draco’s hand, eyes searching the silver ones watching him, “He…he def...defended her. Why…why…”

He trails off, and even though no one knows what he is talking about, Draco answers, “People do crazy things when they know it’s the right thing to do.”

“Bu…but he…he’s been…looking.”

“Who Theo?” he asks, almost gently.

“Bl…Blaise. The girl…” he trails off, head lolling to stare at the ceiling, “Re…re…remember,” a raspy breath, “Thi…third year?”

He keeps running out of air, and it seems as though this is too much for him, gagging and coughing, blood dribbling out the side of his mouth.

“When we snuck out and got hot chocolate?” Draco finishes for him, watching Nott - Theo - carefully as the increasingly pale boy stares at Draco almost desperately.

A slow smile spreads across his face, and he closes his eyes, breathing out one more time before he falls entirely still.

Draco puts Nott’s - Theo’s - hand on his chest and stands back up, head bowed, hair falling over his face. Then he looks at them, expression steely. 

“Blaise? Blaise…Zabini?” Harry asks in confirmation.

Pansy nods, “He was in charge of searching her memory for any sign of Potter, for any signs that she was the secret keeper. He said that he didn’t find anything, but that it appeared as though her memory had been tampered with and would need time to sort through it.”

Pansy pauses then, glancing down at Theo almost nervously, “But, I suppose that her memory wasn’t messed with.”

Harry shakes his head in response, “I never messed with her memory.”

“Let’s keep moving. Ginny’s blasts have been happening with less frequency, we probably won’t have much time.” Ron says, having stepped back from Theo to let Draco speak with him semi-privately. 

Pansy begins walking on after a last look to Theo.

There’s a sharp crack ahead, and they all instinctively pull to opposite sides of the hallway. Staring at each other, they wait, hearts hammering.

Harry is suddenly struck by the sight they make. They all attended Hogwarts together, were all in the same year. They have just seen a classmate die. They barely interacted with each other at Hogwarts, and now they are the closest to getting rid of Riddle.

Suddenly, George’s Patronus is in front of Harry, the weasel bouncing around slightly, George’s voice rising in excitement through the Patronus.

“Knockturn Alley is on fire. The corners are holding. And people without the Dark Mark are getting out. Voldemort can die!” George’s voice is surrounded by loud noises, screams of either fear or delight nearly drowning out the news.

Harry is suddenly taken with the desire to get rid of Riddle right here, right now. He strides forward through the Patronus, ignoring how it dissipated around him now that its message was delivered. 

Hermione and Rob scramble after him, ignoring how the others hesitate longer.

He slams open the door and is met with the sight of Riddle holding the girl, the secret keeper, up in the air, whipping his head around to stare at Harry furiously.

“Potter,” he hisses, ignoring the struggling girl in his grasp. She looks terrible. Blonde hair is stained red, a wound just visible on her forehead. Her right arm looks mangled, the lower half of her left leg looks to be dyed red, and she is steadily going red from lack of oxygen as Riddle strangles her. There’s some sort of lump on the ground, but he can’t tell what it is and so turns his attention back to Riddle.

“You’ve come so far. But you’ve failed,” he begins. 

As he speaks, the girl reaches for her bag, a hand slipping inside the side pocket. Harry honestly stops paying attention to Riddle’s monologue, more interested in what the girl is trying to do.

She slips out a small box that he feels he should recognize, and Hermione takes a sharp breath, signaling that she does recognize it.

“...it feel Potter?” Riddle is saying, but Harry only watches as the girl raises her hand and jab the box into Riddle’s neck.

He freezes, and then starts shaking, dropping the girl before he himself falls, still shaking.

Harry knows that he should move, that he should do something as Riddle starts rising again, but the girl is faster, the box held against Riddle’s side and she holds it there even as he starts screaming, different pitches emerging the longer he goes on. 

“A taser,” Hermione murmurs from beside him.

Riddle doesn’t move again, and they’re struck by how sudden it was. How…normal.

The girl is struggling to move, towards the lump on the ground. Hermione rushes over even as Harry and Ron give Riddle wary looks, walking over more slowly.

A short shriek followed by a thump have the two whipping their heads to look over at Hermione who has fallen over and the girl snarling at her.

“Who do you…” Ron starts as he approaches the two. The girl only shifts the glare to Ron. She’s a sight to be sure, covered in wounds and bleeding sluggishly from some of them, and the shaking that wracks her frame is more than likely from the Cruciatius and not from the lack of oxygen.

“Ron. Enough. It’s the Secret Keeper,” Harry interrupts, tired beyond belief now that it’s over. All he wants to do is go find a corner somewhere and sleep. He comes closer and the girl narrows her eyes at him.

“Call me an ‘it’ again and I’ll murder you.”

It seems Ron can’t help himself because he says drily, “That would be slightly more convincing if you weren’t about 30 seconds from passing out.”

She snarls at him, “I’ve lasted this long. You ever been tortured for days on end? I’ll force myself to stay awake as long as necessary.”

Ron glares back at her and began raising his wand, perhaps unconsciously, perhaps with a specific reason in mind, and the girl visibly braces herself, not moving from her spot from protecting the lump that Harry can see is actually Zabini crumpled on the ground.

But thankfully before Ron can do something, or the girl say anything more, Zabini groans.

He struggles to pull himself upright, blood soaking his right ride from a wound that Harry can barely see through the red-soaked shirt. He wraps a hand around the girl’s wrist as he does so.

“You know Potter. He’s the one who made you secret keeper.”

Harry barely dares to breath as the girl turns back to look at them, eyes narrowing, “He doesn’t look the same.”

Zabini coughed slightly, blood speckling his lips as he finishes pulling himself upright and then adjusts himself so he can place an arm in front of the girl, glaring at them all suspiciously. It’s obvious he is deliberately making a barrier.

Harry tries to not feel insulted even as Zabini continues, “It’s been about a year, of course he’s probably going to look different. The redhead is Ron Weasley. The woman is Hermione Granger. They’re the leaders of the resistance. Your voice, is that from the Dark Lord?”

This last question is directed towards the girl, but Hermione, after sharing a glance with the others, having stood up while Zabini was speaking, says, “Aren’t you a Death Eater? Aren’t you going to kill her and then us?”

This is the wrong thing to say; the girl’s face twists in rage and she raises her hand towards them even as Zabini leans more in front of her.

“No Laura, Laura, she doesn’t know, stop,” he says tiredly as the girl, Laura, tries to pull herself to her feet. 

Harry can tell that Hermione wants to rush forward, wants to help, but holds herself back as Laura mutters to Zabini, the words barely audible to the trio.

Mid-motion of pushing herself upwards, pain crosses Laura’s face and she collapses back to the ground, partially on Zabini’s back that causes him to flash a grimace of pain. 

“Parvati is coming now. She’s a Healer. Could she look you two over to make sure that everything is okay?” Hermione asks carefully, hands raised, and Harry can tell that she wants to move, wants to help the two in front of them, but she doesn’t move closer.

Trusting that Hermione can handle herself for now, Harry turns towards the prone form of Riddle, gesturing for Ron to follow as he starts circling Riddle.

Ron pulls out his wand and begins casting petrificus totalus over and over, regardless of how the first one is probably adequate, wanting to be certain.

Hermione’s voice has Ron looking over sharply, “Hey, we’re the good guys, you don’t need to worry about us hurting you guys.”

Ron spots the wand in Zabini’s hand and starts over, worried and concerned and paranoid after so long in the war. Zabini is raising his wand as Ron approaches, and Harry hurries to speak.

“Enough. They’ve been through hell, I think we can give them a bit of leeway. Hermione, come help me with Riddle. Ron, go get Parvati here now. The two need a Healer badly.” Harry instructs, hearing the exhaustion creep into his voice.

Ron and Hermione nod, and then turn to do as he asks, Ron hurrying out the room to go get Parvati.

Harry doesn’t really need Hermione’s help, but it allows the two on the ground a semblance of privacy as they try and figure out what to do with Riddle.

But as they kneel there, it’s easy to see that Riddle isn’t breathing. He and Hermione exchange a glance before sneaking a look at where Zabini is staring at Laura in concern, shaking his head in response to something she says.

Footsteps alert the two to Ron coming back with Parvati and Draco.

At seeing his old friend, Draco begins to rush over, “Blaise?” Parvati follows a couple steps behind him.

“Draco?” astonishment and concern equally fill Zabini’s tone, “What are you doing here, I thought you got injured months ago!” he relaxes slightly and Harry watches with relief because now the two can get the help they need. Ron joins the three and realizes the same thing they have about Riddle and only blinks. He’s about to rise to go join the others, but unseen by the other group, Hermione grabs his hand and stops him, slightly shaking her head.

Then Draco begins pulling out his wand, and Zabini tenses again, wand raising in response. Draco freezes, releasing his wand and letting it slide back into its holster as he raises his hand slightly.

He speaks almost gently, “I know you’ve been through hell, I know she’s been through awful things, you’ve protected her as much as you could, let us help you two.” Draco tries to project that he means no harm, knowing that Zabini can read it, has been able to use Legilimency for years.

Finally, Laura speaks quietly, only to Zabini, “What do we have to lose at this point?” then she twists around Zabini to look at Draco closely, “He got hit with some sort of curse, can you help him?”

Zabini hisses something unintelligible at Laura, but Draco is looking at Zabini with a sudden intensity, “Blaise, what type of curse? The one on your shoulder?”

“No, he got hit on the side by the Dark Lord, just before you all came in,” Laura responds even as Zabini visibly grips his wand tighter, knuckles going white.

“You’ve known me through school Blaise, I swear to you on my mother’s life that I will not harm you nor the girl. I swear on your own that I won’t hurt either of you,” Draco swears to Zabini, not daring to look away. Harry, Ron, and Hermione are practically holding their breaths as they wait for Zabini to make a decision. They probably could stupefy the two before they could react, but it will be easier if they don’t have to.

Finally, finally, Zabini lowers his wand.

“You should look at Laura first though, she’s had the cruciatus extensively over the last couple weeks, her arm is practically shattered, her leg was cut, she was choked by the Dark Lord and hit by some sort of curse that I didn’t recognize and she’s been hit on the head by some rubble,” Zabini lists off. 

Laura smacks him gently as she speaks, “You’re the one that got cursed by the nutter, this one might actually legitimately be eating you from the inside!”

By now, her eyes are drooping, her words are slurring just slightly as she lists more against Zabini’s back. 

“Do not become a martyr. If I wake up and I find out you died because you insisted that I get treatment first, I’ll hurt you,” she promises, voice slurring.

Zabini lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes before he responds, “Okay.”

It’s obvious to all of them when Laura falls unconscious; she slides against Zabini’s back and would have hit the floor if he hadn’t twisted and caught her, panic spreading across his face as he moves her hair from her face before looking up frantically at Draco and Parvati who have already started moving. 

Draco waves his wand over her, muttering under his breath as whatever spell he casts gives him feedback. Parvati is doing her own spells over Laura, face only turning graver the longer she goes.

“She needs Pomfrey.” Parvati murmured, “Slow-acting curse, but very painful, the longer we wait, the worse it will get. Zabini, you as well. I don’t know how you’re still awake, much less functioning as much as you are.”

Draco turns his wand to Zabini now.

By this point the trio have approached, watching with worry and concern as the two Healers do their best to stabilize the two.

“What’s wrong with them?” Harry asks in concern as the two prepare for a portkey to take them all to the Hospital Wing.

“Curses. Bad ones. I don’t even know how they’re alive,” Parvati responds, standing up to look around the room, searching for something that only she knew. She seems to dismiss the thought though, shrugging slightly and looking down at where Draco is continuing to cast spells over the two of them.

“What are you doing?” Zabini asks in a voice that is getting increasingly slurred, his eyes closing and snapping open with an intent look in them.

Draco answers as he’s the one who is still casting, “A stasis spell. We’ve gotten pretty good at casting stasis spells on people in order to get them to Madame Pomfrey alive. Parvati and I are good, but Madame Pomfrey and a couple others have spent all this time only studying healing. They can do a lot better than we can. You can rest now Blaise, I promise we’ll take care of you both.”

Zabini looks at Draco almost desperately, as though he is the promise of water in a desert. But then he looks down at the still unconscious Laura and his expression changes in such a way that Harry almost feels like he’s intruding in something intensely private.

“I don’t think I can lose her,” he admits to Draco in a voice that breaks and Harry most definitely feels like he is intruding. Ron is also shifting uncomfortably, but thankfully doesn’t say anything, watching instead.

“And you won’t. But you need to trust us Blaise.” Draco insists. Zabini stares at him for perhaps the longest second ever before finally he lets his eyes slide shut and starts to tip forward, arms still wrapped tight around Laura.

Draco and Parvati are instantly moving, catching Zabini before he crushes the blonde. 

“Harry, make us a portkey now. Your magic is the strongest with that fancy wand,” Parvati snaps, wand whipping through the air as she concentrates on Laura. Draco doesn’t even speak, too busy working on Zabini.

It startles Harry into motion and he hurriedly spins around to find something to use, but Hermione shoves a piece of rubble in his hands before he can run off. He thanks her absentmindedly and creates the portkey, holding it as he waits for one of them to tell him when they need it.

Not a moment later, Draco whips out an expectant hand and Harry drops the portkey in it, watching as a second later the four of them are gone.

It’s just the three of them left in the empty room. The manor is eerily empty, and Harry has the fleeting thought of how many people managed to escape before he discards it. He’ll think about it later.

Ginny and Astoria show up at one point. Ginny’s non-dominant arm is just hanging there and appears to be broken, there’s a cut on the side of her face that seems to be bleeding more than it should, and her hair is half out of its braid. Astoria is limping, but has a crutch that she probably conjured from somewhere. Blood runs from the corner of her mouth, and her shirt sleeve is gone, burnt off it looks like. Amazingly, her arm seems to be fine and Harry wonders whether she healed it or managed to get far enough out of the way.

“All good?”

Ginny gives him a small, but brilliant smile and nods. Harry feels his shoulders loosen and he sags just the slightest, bringing up a hand to rest against his face. Right now he would not be opposed to taking a long, well-deserved nap.

Things pass in a blur after that. There are people to call, people to check up, get reports and make reports. Someone at some point does something with Riddle’s body and Harry could honestly care less. 

He sees Hermione tracking the body with her eyes though and waves her off to go deal with that. Astoria and Ginny are taken back to Hogwarts for healing, although it isn’t too terrible.

The Battle of Diagon Alley and the Burning of Knockturn Alley are what needs the most of his attention. He is everywhere in the destroyed streets. The corners had held, minus a minor scare when someone went for Gabrielle, obviously recognizing her to be Fleur’s younger sister, but in a surprising twist, Viktor Krum had shown up and blown apart the wizard and then the street corner.

“I thought you couldn’t come back due to Politics?” Harry asks in a bit of daze as he watches Fleur simultaneously kiss and scold her sister to death.

Viktor shrugs, “Old friend ask. I say yes.”

Then Harry has no more time to talk to anyone, bouncing around from place to place, telling older witches and wizards to get out of the way, moving rubble, pissing off the older generation, casting Patroni, and just generally telling anyone who should have stopped this war before it got this far to get out of the way because they weren’t being helpful.

It’s surprisingly cathartic to yell at an old lady with a backing of solemnly nodding kids and young adults.

At some point he eats, drinks, and sleeps; then he repeats all over again.

His first actual break comes in the form of Ginny coming to him and telling him that Zabini is awake and asking for him.

/\

Stepping into the Hospital Wing brings back a rush of nostalgia that Harry has him automatically looking at the bed he spent the most time in. Madame Pomfrey had threatened to officially declare the bed as his if he didn’t stop getting injured. 

But he puts it out of his mind at the sight of Zabini siting attentively by Laura’s side. He isn’t moving except for the subtle motions of breathing and Harry knocks on the door quietly to announce his presence.

Zabini startles so badly he throws himself to his feet, arm scrambling for the wand that he had placed on the table beside him. Seeing Harry, a frown crosses his face before he carefully turns back around to sit down in the chair. His shoulders line with a tension that hadn’t been there before and Harry feels a flash of shame at having stolen that bit of calmness, but steps forward anyways until he is next to Zabini and watching Laura.

She already looks leagues better than she had in the manor, more like the woman he had met in the tube all those months ago.

“Are you here to arrest me?” Zabini asks hoarsely as he stares determinedly at his hands.

Harry shakes his head as he responds, “No. You were a spy, fighting for us on the inside. You kept the Secret Keeper alive.” He gestures just slightly to Laura.

Next to him, Zabini tenses, “She doesn’t like to be called that.” Harry looks down at how Zabini has clenched his hands together, veins standing out from how hard he is holding them. Zabini looks up at him, eyes blazing, when Harry doesn’t respond right away, “That was the only thing they called her, because she wouldn’t tell them her name or anything, and, well.” He pauses and looks at Laura for a half second before looking back at Harry, expression almost hardening, “It’s easier to listen to someone scream if you don’t think of them as human.”

Harry has no words to respond to that and breaks eye contact first, looking at Laura. She’s still too pale, breathing not as stable as it should be, but her face isn’t contorted with pain, and Harry takes that as all the signs that she’s going to be okay.

When it becomes clear that Zabini isn’t going to say anything else, Harry sighs and says, “People aren’t perfect Zabini. To expect them to be is to set yourself up for disappointment.”

Zabini doesn’t reply.

For a long while, the two wait in silence.

“What are your plans about Laura?” 

Harry thinks about that. Then he says, “I hadn’t thought of anything. It’s really up to her. If she wants to go back to her life from before, then I’ll do my best to make sure that that happens. If she wants to stay here, then I’ll make it work.”

Zabini says nothing and then lets out a sigh and relaxes just the slightest in the chair. A hand comes up to rub against his face and Harry is suddenly struck by how exhausted Zabini looks. How exhausted he must be in general. How long has he been doing what he’s been doing? How long has he been working against Riddle? That’s a string that Harry really doesn’t want to pull, so he forces himself to move on.

Eventually Harry dares to put a hand on Zabini, ignoring how the Italian tenses, “I don’t know how much it will mean, but thank you. For what you did. And don’t worry, she’ll be okay.”

There isn’t anything more to say after that, and so Harry walks out, looking back once to see Zabini slump in the chair, one hand coming up to grip Laura’s tightly.

/\

The next time he goes to the Hospital Wing is because Laura has woken up. He isn’t sure what pushes him to drop everything, to rush out of whatever meeting he had been sitting in, but he’s struck with the feeling that he has to see for himself, has to see her right now. 

Getting to the Hospital Wing, he pauses at seeing Zabini and Laura talking to each other. The two are only concentrated on each other. Harry wonders if the two are aware of how they look to others, but he isn’t going to be the one to bring that to their attention. There are other things to worry about.

He tunes into the conversation to hear how Laura asks Zabini what to do, what happens now that everything is over. Then Zabini tells Laura to call him Blaise. Harry has to wonder at that, what the significance of that is, why Laura brightens so much at that and how Zabini relaxes even more at the sight.

Taking that as a good a que as any to walk in, Harry says, “I have a suggestion if you’d like to hear it.”

He hadn’t realized just how much the two weren’t paying attention until then. Zabini bolts upright, wand in hand. Laura has her cup prepared to throw at him and internally he winces at the water spilled all over her. At least she was semi-prepared.

He raises his hands and stops, “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Zabini is the first to move, practically collapsing back into the chair and Harry has the thought that if Madam Pomfrey had seen that Zabini would have been ordered right back into bed.

“Merlin Potter, don’t do that.” He says as he rubs a hand over his face, glancing at Laura out of the corner of his eyes.

Laura is slowly lowering the glass as she stares at him.

Harry ignores the slightly uncomfortable feeling as she stares, walking closer as he speaks, “You kept the secret. The Wizarding World owes you a debt of gratitude that we can’t ever repay. We…well, that is, I, I wanted to apologize for what happened. I thought that I had kept you a secret, but Theo…Nott, he, he found out. I apologize for what you went through.”

Laura looks away from him and Harry winces internally. He’s been thinking about this a lot, what to say to her, how to say it to her, and he doesn’t know what to do. Part of him is worried that she thinks that they’re all monsters who are just going to kill her.

It’s this fear that has him continuing, “We’ve never formally been introduced. My name is Harry Potter. Let me show you what you protected. That magic can be used for good.” He stuck out his hand at the end of it and waited.

She looks up at him, a curious look crossing her face as she took him. Harry doesn’t know what she sees, but only waits as she looks over at Zabini. Carefully, she reaches over to put the cup on the stand, Zabini taking it from her. Then she looks up at him, and takes his hand in her own. A small smile crosses her face.

“It’s nice to meet you Harry Potter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all. What have I done. Created a monster, I tell you. This was not supposed to be this long, but it kept going. It also switched tenses on me? Trust me, I was incredibly confused when this happened. As of right now the other chapters are still the same, but I was thinking that eventually I would go back and update that. Maybe. This time, I’m also not going to say this is the last chapter or anything, but guess what? I was writing it and was like, huh, I have another chapter in mind. Seriously, what is my life. Anyways. Here’s this chapter (which theoretically would be the last one, but that’s what I said in the first one, so obviously that doesn’t last for me). Enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! So this is cross-posted over from fanfiction, so this is a bit of a test run to see if I can get AO3 to cooperate with me and make it look nice. This is a three-shot, so expect the next chapters soon! Funny note, the chapters get progressively longer. First chapter clocked in at about 9 pages. Chapter 3 is about 20. But it's a fun adventure :)


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